One More Irregularity
by Mikki13
Summary: Redo of the famous bedroom scene in 2.22. What happens when Papa Bartowski isn't actually in the room? Written for Wepdiggy.


**A/N: **Written for Wepdiggy. Because hot smut is always the best sort of pick me up. In more ways than one. ;-)

**Beta: **Thanks to mxpw for the awesomely anal beta.

**Disclaimer: **Not mine. If it belonged to me, the characters might be somewhat consistent.

~*~

He sunk hard onto the mattress, every muscle knotted with tension even as he tried to clear his head. Even as he tried to forget the last few hours, the last few days. Even as he tried to convince himself that nothing had changed. That everything remained the same.

But even as he tried to force away the swell of thoughts, even as he tried to force away the onslaught of emotions, he couldn't forget everything that had happened. He couldn't forget everything that had changed.

Fulcrum had been taken down.

His father had been rescued.

He had ceased to be the Intersect. Ceased to be the government's property. Ceased to be anything other than himself.

This should be the happiest day of his life. This should be the best hour of his existence. Yet every time he closed his eyes, every time he even took a breath, he remembered the look on Sarah's face when she told him that she was going to leave. When she told him that she was going off with Bryce. When she essentially admitted that it was all just a cover, a con. A relationship that was as false as his existence during the last two years.

And along with those thoughts, along with that memory, was the recollection of the pain in his sister's eyes when her wedding went up in smoke. The happiest day of Ellie's life, torn to pieces because of his fake existence, because he hadn't been able to protect her the way that a brother should.

Gritting his teeth against the ache reverberating deep within his chest, Chuck squeezed his eyes shut and willed it all away. Willed everything to stop. Willed the clock to rewind. Willed it all to be a crazy dream.

So deep was he in thought that he barely noticed his bedroom door creak open, nor did he hear the footsteps echo softly into his bedroom. It was only when she cleared her throat that he slowly opened his eyes and locked onto her concerned blue gaze.

"Hey," she said quietly, a tight smile stretched across her face. Her hair hung about her shoulders in long blonde waves, her somewhat disheveled appearance sporting the telltale signs of their impromptu fight and shower.

"Hey," Chuck replied, forcing his own smile into place. Forcing himself to sit up, to sigh away the pain. To pretend like his world wasn't suddenly crashing around his feet. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to make sure you were alright," Sarah confessed, taking a place on his bed. As she did so, her wrinkled pink dress brushed against his arm, causing a rush of electricity to course through his skin. Even after everything that had happened, even after everything that had changed, the overwhelming effect she had on him was still apparent.

"I'm fine," Chuck replied softly, staring straight ahead. "I'm just worried about Ellie, that's all."

"It's not your fault, Chuck," Sarah consoled, placing her hand onto his forearm.

Again, he felt a gentle rush of electricity. Again, he tried to will away the pain. "I should have done something, Sarah," he chided. "Why is it that my spy life is always messing up my real life? Why is it that I can't just be a normal brother to my sister on the most important day of her life?" _Why is it that nothing ever goes the way that I want it to go?_

This last thought caused a prickle of painful remorse to wash through his chest; a feeling that grew all the more potent and all the more powerful as Sarah's hand tightened around his arm. And suddenly, he found his torrent of hurt, his torrent of pain breaking free. Suddenly, he found himself unable to keep quiet any longer. "Why is it that you're leaving me?" he finished, glancing into her startled blue eyes. "Was it really all just a cover, Sarah?"

Sarah stared at him for a long moment, her expression both guarded and intense. Shadows of emotion flickered within her eyes, playing along her face and highlighting her struggle. For the first time, he could almost see how difficult it was for her to open up. For the first time, he could almost understand how much she had overcome. _For him? _He'd like to think so. He'd like to think she felt for him the same way he felt for her. But then, even entertaining the idea was like climbing atop a towering mountain and preparing himself for a death defying jump. Was he ready to make it? Was he ready to put himself out there, to make himself completely vulnerable? Was he ready to open himself up to her, even if it meant the possibility of getting crushed in the process?

As he gazed into her deep blue eyes, as he felt her arm brush against his own, as he savored the proximity of the woman sitting by his side, he realized that the answer was a resounding yes. Even if she left tomorrow, even if he never saw her again, he had to tell her how he felt now. He had to know if she felt the same way. He had to know if this crazy thing between them was as real as it seemed. So when she spoke next, he knew exactly how to respond.

"Which do you want me to answer first?" she asked softly, pinching her lips together as she waited for a reply.

Swallowing the lump of tension forming at the back of his throat, Chuck gently extracted her hand from his arm and threaded his fingers through the negative spaces of her own. "Was it all just a cover, Sarah?" he prodded, his voice turning husky. "Or was it something more?" _Was it something real?_

Again, he could see the emotions dueling for supremacy in her eyes. He could see the hesitation, the disquietude, the _fear_ flickering across her face. It wasn't something he was used to seeing. It wasn't something he was used to acknowledging. Sarah Walker had always been strong and in control. Powerful. Yet seeing her now, watching her struggle against the emotions clear upon her face, he wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms and never let her go. "Sarah?" he prompted her, his breath catching slightly.

"It was more than just a cover, Chuck," she finally admitted, her gaze darting to his chin even as she rubbed her thumb against the back of his hand. "It was always more than just a cover."

"Then what was it?" he asked quietly, his heart skipping a beat.

"Do you really need me to answer that?" she replied, glancing back into his eyes. Allowing him to see the emotion reflected in her own. Allowing him to understand that whatever had happened between them, it was more than just a lie. It was more than just a con. It was more than anything they had ever actually admitted. More than anything he had ever actually felt.

"No," he said simply. And then he leaned forward, keeping her gaze locked in his sights the entire time. And when he could finally feel her breath against his cheek, when he could finally feel the warmth radiating from her body, he closed his eyes and brushed his lips against her soft, smooth mouth.

The kiss began gentle and hesitant, Sarah's hand slowly rising to cup his cheek and his fingers brushing lightly against her arm. All of his energy, all of his attention was focused on her, on the way she made him feel, on the amazing feeling of her body as it responded to his touch, on the emotions coursing hot and insistent through his veins. All of it, everything was a product of being with Sarah Walker. He could never feel this way with anyone else.

"Sarah," he murmured against her lips, wrapping his arms around her slender frame.

Her eyes popped open as his fingers began to massage her lower back, their depths full of more emotion than he'd ever before seen. He could almost read the thoughts behind that look. He could almost see the feelings churning beneath the surface of her gorgeous face. Tightening his arms around her body, he allowed his own emotions to surface brightly behind his cinnamon eyes. He allowed her to see the passion, the adoration, the love he'd never truly been allowed to express. And as he continued to kiss her, as he continued to gently caress her perfect form, she gradually let herself go.

Closing her eyes, she ran her tongue lightly over his lower lip, causing him to moan as he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. And when she plunged her tongue into his soft, warm recesses, he forgot all else – the confusion, the doubts, the pain – and latched onto her zipper, sliding it down her silky dress. His hands quickly slipped underneath the fabric, kneading the supple skin he found there, relishing the feel of her underneath his touch. She was everything he'd always imagined she'd be. She was everything he'd always wanted, but never thought he'd have. She was everything. His everything.

Pushing the material down her shoulders, he reluctantly broke the kiss. But when her eyes narrowed in confusion and she made a quiet sound of protest, he quickly moved his lips to her flawless chin, down her graceful neck, finally latching onto her smooth shoulder. His mouth moved fluidly against her creamy skin, savoring her taste as he continued to push her dress down her muscular body. And when it was pooled around her waist, the pink fabric accentuating his crisp white sheets, he continued his downward journey until he was kissing a trail along the top of her chest.

He couldn't believe she was letting him touch her this way. He couldn't believe that she was angling her body against his touch, that she was closing her eyes as he savored her skin, that she was making the noises she was currently making. His stomach knotted as he came closer to her perfect breasts, his anxiety mingled with hopeful longing to create an almost physical pain as he maneuvered her so that she was lying on her back. And as he positioned himself so that he was cradled between her sinewy thighs, their gazes locked for the briefest of instances and Chuck's breath caught in his throat at the emotion intensified within her bright blue depths. Everything he had always wanted to see, everything he had always longed to see was reflected within her eyes. But along with the ardor, along with the adoration, he also caught deep seated fear.

"Sarah," he repeated, absentmindedly stroking her cheek with his thumb. "We really don't have to do this." God, he wanted to do this. He wanted to bury himself so deeply inside of her that he didn't know where he ended and she began. But he wasn't going to force her into this. He wasn't going to force her to be with him if she . . . if she really didn't want to be.

A gentle smile spread across her face, and she ran her fingers through his disheveled curls. "I want this, Chuck," the words sounded like a confession, difficult yet necessary. Inhaling deeply, she continued to look deeply into his eyes. "Trust me," she said, shaking her head against his rumpled pillow. "There's nothing that I want more."

Chuck's face split into a wide grin, and he leaned forward to brush another slow kiss against her parted lips. "Good," he said simply, giving her a second kiss. "Because I want it, too." And then he began exploring her body anew, his nimble fingers kneading and caressing her smooth, warm skin, studying every surface and learning every facet. His lips quickly followed the fiery path created by his fingers, and soon he was sucking a pert breast into his eager mouth.

Sarah moaned as he suckled on her hardened nipple, thrusting her hips toward his rapidly hardening groin and causing him to bite back a groan in turn. And when he continued to lavish her breast with his tongue, and caress her body with skilled, calloused fingers, she wrapped her legs around his waist and allowed her head to fall back against her shoulders. "God, Chuck," she breathed as his hand descended down her belly, his finger tracing the line of her panties, "That feels amazing."

He wasn't sure how long he continued to devour, to cherish her with his tongue, with his mouth, with his fingers. He wasn't sure how long it took him to undress her, or how long after that it took her to undress him. The only thing he knew for sure was that he'd never experienced anything like this. He'd never felt anything like Sarah's fiery, passionate touch as she explored every inch of his heated body. He'd never heard anything like Sarah's encouraging, sensuous moans as he thrust his fingers into her warm, velvety center. He'd never tasted anything like Sarah's slick, salty skin as his lips joined his fingers in their frenzied, urgent exploration of her satiny sex. As his tongue caressed her sensitive center, as he placed kisses along her slippery core, as he wrapped his mouth around her tender clit and relished the feel of her inner flesh clenching his long, able fingers. As he watched her orgasm wash over her in waves, as he saw the content grin form upon her face, as he took in the pleased, sultry look within her eyes.

And when he finally locked onto her urgent, ardent gaze, when he finally pressed his rigid cock against her heated center, when he finally pushed himself deep within her satiny folds, the only thing he registered was the sounds that escaped her lips and the feel of her moving rhythmically against his trembling frame. They fell quickly into a natural cadence; much more quickly, much more deftly than he'd ever before experienced. Her legs tight around his waist, she used the heels of her feet to push him deeply, quickly, repeatedly into her warm, slick core, even as his own fervent groans filled his room.

"Sarah." It became a mantra upon his lips, her name coming more rapidly and loudly as he felt himself nearing the edge. As he felt the pressure begin to build behind his balls, the undeniable feeling that he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. As her fingernails raked hard against his sweaty skin, and she sank her teeth gently into his shoulder. And when she finally cried out, when her walls finally clenched around his hardened shaft and she pushed him so deeply inside that he was buried to the hilt, he couldn't hold on any longer. Spilling himself within her depths, he collapsed into her arms, altogether breathless and completely blissful.

"Wow," he said a few moments later, rolling onto his side and gathering her into his arms. "I'm going to have to mess up my sister's wedding more often."

Snorting lightly, Sarah elbowed him in the ribs even while placing her head upon his chest. "Or you could do it the old fashioned way," she said, brushing a kiss onto his flushed skin. "You could ask me on a date first."

Shivering slightly under her touch, his slow grin was quickly interrupted by a fleeting moment of reality. "That's gonna be kinda hard," he said softly, painfully, "When I don't even know how to reach you."

She sighed against his chest, running her fingers along his abdomen. "Chuck –"

"No," he said, holding up a hand. "It's okay. I get it. I've always gotten it, Sarah," he continued, brushing a kiss against the top of her head. "You're a spy. That has to come first."

Her response was so inaudible that he barely heard it. So unexpected that he barely acknowledged it. So welcome that he barely believed it. "Not always," she said. And then, perhaps because she sensed how vulnerable she had become, or maybe because she knew how close she was to giving in, she quickly changed the subject. "What are we going to do about Ellie?" she wondered quietly.

In that moment, two things became clear to Chuck. No matter what she might say, no matter what she might do, Sarah Walker cared about him. She cared about him so deeply that she was afraid to show just how deeply she really felt. And along with that knowledge, along with the clarity, was a sudden brainstorm. A sudden understanding

Pushing himself reluctantly off of his bed, he flashed Sarah an apologetic smile as she groaned at the loss of contact. "I know how I can save this wedding," he said, moving to his desk drawer. "For once, I'm gonna be a normal guy and help my sister when she needs me most." Extracting the check given to him by the CIA, the funds that almost matched everything he'd ever made at the Buy More, he strode across the room and placed it into Sarah's outstretched hand.

Her eyes widened as she realized the extent of Chuck's action, the meaning behind his words. And then, as she gazed at the check in her hand, and she looked up at the man standing naked by her side, a glimmer of clarity formed upon her own face. A glimmer of understanding, of hope, of acceptance. "That's not what a normal guy would do," she said quietly.

Chuck shrugged, his mouth quirking into a small smirk. "I've always found being normal a little overrated anyway," he replied. After all, he'd already fallen for the most extraordinary, unconventional woman in the world. What was one more irregularity?


End file.
